by Charity B.
“I will give you one week, and then we will set whatever you’ve decided into place. She needs to understand that as my first wife, you have seniority and ultimately, the final word. Don’t let her manipulate you.”
She tilts her head in amusement. “With all due respect, husband, I do not let her manipulate me. I simply relate well to her. If I’m guilty of anything, it’s letting her make her own decisions.”
I hold my hand up in surrender because every husband in the Anointed Land knows it’s best to let their wives work most things out for themselves.
“About last night, I apologize. The evening got away from me with Zeke and Jacob.”
Her eyes flash. “You were with the Counselor and Apostle the entire night?” My tongue swells in my mouth, so I nod my head in deception. Her expression falls neutral as she turns back to her task. “Well, I’m pleased you had a nice time with your brothers.”
A sickness rolls in my stomach. She knows something. I step beside her and lift her chin to kiss her. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
I close the bride room door behind me, take off my hat, and drop my head against the wood, allowing air to rush through my lips. Even my guilt is confused. I glance toward my office. I don’t regret for a single second what I did with Laurel Ann, yet I hate knowing I betrayed Mia and Marybeth.
Leaving through the front doors, I wave at passing followers on my way to the back of the tabernacle, for the buggy Mia brought.
I ride back to the ranch I share with my family. After my father died, I allowed my mothers and siblings to stay at the ranch until they become bound. I stop the buggy on the pathway in front of the barn, remove my hat, and enter my home to find the dining room full of my mothers, siblings, and wife. They all tell me, “Good morning,” before I receive a kiss from my mother and Marybeth. Zeke sits at the table eating his breakfast, nodding at me in greeting.
“May I have a word, Apostle?”
He furrows his brows as he wipes his mouth and follows me outside. Walking next to him, I wait until we get far enough from the house to not risk being heard.
“Did you talk to Mia at all last night?”
His nose scrunches with a look of confusion. “Uh, yeah, just for a minute. She asked me where you were.”
Shit, shit, shit.
“What did you say?” I ask, breathless.
Raising his eyebrow, he scratches the scruff on his jaw. “What do you mean? The truth. That I hadn’t seen you since the dispersal of Zaaron’s gifts.”
Fuck.
I CAN’T BREATHE. I CREEP from the tabernacle and make my way behind the building. As soon as I’m safe from prying eyes, I fall to the dirt and allow myself to cry. I’m covered in sin, and my Prophet can’t cleanse me without damning himself. I don’t understand how I have such little control over my fleshly desires when it comes to Zeb. Last night felt like a dream, but this morning my thoughts were clear. I knew what we were doing was wrong, and I still opened my legs for him like a whore.
All this time dreaming of being with him, and now I can’t do it. His touch is impossible for me to deny, yet knowing he does the same to my sister and eventually Marybeth is suffocating. And there will be more. He will continue taking wives until Zaaron desires him in the Paradise Star. He’s right, I have always known he would have many wives, but actually seeing it is incredibly more painful than I was prepared for.
He’s all I want. I’ve never had a single desire for anyone other than him, but I can’t share him. I can’t live like that for the rest of my life, and I’m furious at myself for it. I cry and rub my chest, my heart physically aching. The reality of my sins crushes me as shame covers me in a thick sheen.
I have to purify.
Keeping my eyes peeled for anyone who may see me, I hurry to Benji’s cellar. I reach the wooden door, my heart leaping at the missing lock before I heave it open. Once I’m down the ladder, I find the lantern, lighting it and turning the knob to bring some illumination into the space.
My eyes scan the shelves of boxes. I doubt there’s an order to them. Taking down the first one to my right, I sit on the mattress, rummaging for something I can use.
One by one I search them. After eight different boxes, I find a Zippo and a necklace with a small, metal star pendant.
Holding the chain, I dangle the jewelry above the flame until I see a glow. I carefully lay the star on the inside of my elbow, groaning at the contact of heat. I grit my teeth, using his blanket to push it deeper into my skin. I whimper and gasp from the pain, yet I welcome the small weight lifted off my soul.
Tears fall down my face as I peel the pendant from my skin. In an attempt to relieve the burning, I press the blanket against the wound, though it does nothing to diminish the pain.
Returning the items to their boxes, I hear footsteps behind me. “Hey, Laur, whatcha doin’?” I turn to see Benji jumping off the ladder. Because I don’t want to tell him about my personal cleansing, I try to think of an excuse when the thought I had last night about Kaila’s photo, ping-pongs in my head.
“I’d like you to keep a secret for me.”
I reach down and remove my boot for the photo. Benji’s eyebrow is arched at my actions until his eyes find the picture, then they widen.
“Is that a photograph?” I nod, presenting it to him. He reaches for it tenderly, holding it in his palm as if it will turn to ash at any moment. “Who is she?” he whispers.
I don’t stop the smile creeping across my lips at not only how gentle he is with it, but also thinking of her. “Her name is Kaila. She was the first person who was genuinely nice to me out there.”
His mouth quirks as he runs his fingers over the glossy photo before slowly holding it out to me. “She’s very pretty.”
I don’t take the picture from him. Instead, I trace my hands along the different boxes. “Zebadiah already found it. He warned me he would destroy it if he saw it again.” I turn to find him looking at me like I’ve grown wings. “Can I keep it here?”
He shakes his head. “Wait. Zeb knows you have this?” I nod and he asks, “When did this happen?”
Dropping my gaze to the ground, I tug on my dress with my fingers. It feels suffocating all of a sudden. “Last night.”
He whistles and picks the smallest box off the top. It’s a wooden box with a bird carved in the grain. He lifts the lid and gently places the photo inside.
“Last night, huh?” He turns to me and grins. “How’d that go?”
I let out a breath and sit on his bed. “Not how it should have.”
Sitting next to me, he nudges my shoulder. “Did something else happen between you two?”
I shake my head and laugh because if I don’t, I’ll cry. “It doesn’t matter. He would make me his wife, regardless of Zaaron’s wishes, and still…I just can’t. I can’t spend every day watching the man that I love touching other women. Especially Mia. The fact that she is his wife, his first wife, makes me feel an anger that I shouldn’t.”
He tilts his head as if torn on my statement. “I guess I understand that.”
“I don’t. I should take him however I can, but even thinking about him with them makes me feel ill.” I look at him, and the thought lights up my mind like a lightning storm. “You love my brother, don’t you?”
His face flushes with his grin. “Sammy is…” He laughs and ruffs up his hair. “Yes, I love him. Very much.”
“What if you never had to worry about being bound to someone else? What if you could be with Samuel without fear of getting caught?”
He raises his eyebrows, nodding his head in thought. “That would be amazing, but how do you plan to make that happen?”
I turn to him and take a big breath. I know this is the only way. For everyone.
“Benji, will you be my husband?”
He busts up laughing. “That was cold, freckles. I thought you were serious.”
“I am. If you agree, I will inform our Prophet, and he will allow it. I can promise y
ou that.”
“You’re not joking?” He’s gaping at me, though there is clear hope behind his shock.
“No. This is what’s best for all of us. You can be with my brother in our home, and I won’t have to worry about being placed with someone else.”
His thumb slides under his suspenders with his laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned. Laurel Ann Johnson.”
Climbing the steps to the placing dorms, I open the screen door and consider knocking before deciding to just walk in. The beds are already made with most of the movement in the back toward the kitchen. I don’t even get past the dividers when a much older Evelyn Taub rushes toward me.
“Laurel Ann! Welcome home, child!” She hurries me to the hall behind the kitchen, taking me directly to the washroom. “I’ll have some water put on the stove, and then we’ll get you some clean clothes and some food in your stomach. I already have a bed saved for you. Number sixteen.” Pointing to one of the baskets in the corner, she says, “Put your soiled clothes in there. We’ll return them to your bed once they’ve been cleaned.”
“I am grateful for your kindness, Sister Evelyn.”
“Of course, dear.” She opens a cabinet and gives me a small bag. “This should have all the toiletries you need. Sister Delilah and I will be back with your clothes and water.”
She leaves me alone in the washroom as I open the bag. I could squeal when I find a toothbrush and small jar of toothpaste. After I brush my teeth, I use the hair brush to untangle my ends.
Sister Evelyn returns with my clothes, shoes, and a towel. “Go ahead and get undressed. The first pot is almost ready. It’s cooling to a comfortable temperature now.”
Once again she disappears before I take the soap and shampoo from the bag, placing them next to the tub. As I take off my dress, I can feel the rush of Zebadiah’s fingers pushing up my petticoat. I hold back a sob at the odd mix of arousal and heartbreak that consumes me. There’s a secret part of me that is selfishly grateful I was able to experience what it’s like to lay with someone I love. I wonder when my conscience became so jumbled.
I climb into the tub when Sister Delilah comes in with the hot pot of water. Being careful to hide my fresh cleansing wound, I press my arm close to my side and adjust myself comfortably. She pours the water over my head, the warmth gushing across my skin, making my body hum in relief. The liquid stings against the star burn on my arm, and though it hurts, knowing it’s being cleaned helps me ignore it. Saying nothing, she leaves, returning moments later with the next pot. I lather up my hair and body, reveling in the feeling of being clean.
My stomach is full, my skin is clean, and my clothes are fresh when I leave the placing dorms. I pass the schoolhouse, making my way to the tabernacle to talk to Zeb. Climbing the steps, I reach for the handle as the door swings open, putting me face to face with my sister.
She gives me a forced smile and closes the door behind her. “Sister, how convenient. I’ve been wanting to speak with you.” Stepping down the stairs, she gestures ahead of us. “Would you take a walk with me?”
My ears heat up, and my stomach tightens. If I wasn’t avoiding her before, I surely am now. The last thing I want to do is be alone with her with the inevitability of Zebadiah being mentioned.
“I apologize, but I must meet with the Prophet about time sensitive matters.”
She nods, her bonnet casting a shadow over her eyes. “Certainly. I shall wait until you’re finished.”
I swallow and nod. “Yes, of course.”
Rushing inside the tabernacle, I’m desperate to get free from her gaze. Closing the door behind me, I let out a breath and a prayer that this guilt will wane over time.
“Laurel Ann! What are you doing back here?” I turn around to see Zebadiah marching over to me. “We can’t be alone together. Mia knows, or at least she suspects something.”
My body sways at his words. “What? What did she say?”
“Nothing, she just knows I wasn’t where I said I was last night. We mustn’t be seen together.”
While he may be right, his crassness has me crossing my arms. “Then you’ll be pleased with what I have come to tell you.” His hands slide into his pockets as he quirks an eyebrow in curiosity. “I want to be placed with Benji Johnson.”
His face and shoulders fall before a glare crosses his expression. “What is this, Laur?”
“This is me figuring out my place here. My place is with Benji.”
“You can’t be serious. You would rather be bound to Benji Johnson than me?”
His furious expression mixed with his woeful eyes breaks my heart so deep I yearn to clutch my chest. I don’t know how to explain feelings that I can’t make sense of myself.
“I’m sorry.”
He scoffs and looks at me as if waiting for me to take it back. His features become hardened to the point there is no emotion in them at all.
“Fine. If that’s what you wish. I will announce your binding by the end of the week.”
Without another word he turns around, walking toward the back of the tabernacle. Tears fall down my cheeks, and I wipe them away because they will fix nothing.
My feet move slowly, knowing Mia is waiting for me outside. I have to eliminate any question she has about me and Zeb. It’s over now. Nothing would come of her knowing.
I push open the tabernacle door, and there she stands with a sweet smile on her face. “Is everything in order?”
I nod as I walk down the steps. “Yes, thank you.”
She loops her arm through mine, leading me from the tabernacle “I thought it would be nice to converse away from inquisitive ears and eyes.” In all the times I fantasized about coming back here, I never dreamed I would be this uncomfortable around her. I can’t think of anything to talk about, so I’m grateful when she picks up the conversation. “How bad was it?” she whispers, “The dark, new world?”
I sigh, debating whether to tell her anything. While being friends with a Philistine isn’t specified as a sin, it’s definitely not something seen to be acceptable.
“It wasn’t how I thought it would be. There is evil, but Philistines are all very different. They’re all sinners of course, yet some of them never did anything besides be kind to me.” Her eyebrow raises in question, though she doesn’t voice it. “I became very close to one in particular. Her name is Kaila. She’s very…” I laugh remembering all the times she had to ‘make an entrance’ or how it was nearly impossible to be in a bad mood around her. “Vibrant. Because of her, life became bearable. Even good, sometimes.”
She blinks in shock at my words. “You truly care for one of them?” There’s judgment there, but it’s apparent she’s attempting to hide it. In return, I keep my retort to myself. Lightly squeezing my arm, she says, “I’m pleased you were able to find comfort there.”
We don’t seem to be going in any specific direction when we come up on Job Talbott’s place. They do all printing of The True Testament, hymnals, school books, and other spiritual text. There are cute little lambs running around in a pen, and I reach down to pet them.
They bleat and all come to me, seeing if I have anything tasty to give them. “I’m sorry, babes, I don’t have anything.”
“Laurel Ann.” Her tone requires me to look at her, and there are tears in her eyes. My skin gets clammy as the sun beats down on me. She’s going to confront me about Zeb, I just know it. “Many years ago, you trusted me with an important secret. I didn’t keep that secret, and because of my betrayal, you suffered a life without Zaaron, your family, and…Zebadiah. I want you to know I live with the fault of that.”
I’m not sure where she’s going with this. My tongue rolls around in my mouth as I try to speak. “You did what you knew was obeying spiritual law. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about.” There is a part of me that truly believes what I’m saying, however, the part that’s been tainted by the outside world is grateful she had to endure some suffering for her actions. “And as for the Prophet, he and I are b
oth grown. We were close a lifetime ago, but we’re different people now.”
For a split second her eyes darken before she drops her shoulders and sighs, looking toward the Talbott house. Four of Job Talbott’s wives come out of the print shop carrying cases of freshly printed books to load into the wagon.
“I understand your hesitancy to be honest with me.” My burning face along with the thumping in my chest is about to force the truth from my lips. “You have no reason to trust me. I just knew when I found out you had returned, I had to tell you my secret.” Her bonnet strings blow across her neck as she silently cries. Her tears make me nervous, and unsure that I want to know this secret. “And you can do with it whatever you wish.”
“Mia, you really don’t need to tell me anything.”
She nods and takes in air with a shaky breath. “I do.” Gripping the sheep’s pen, she watches the Talbott women. “I am in love with someone, and it is not the Prophet.” Her voice cracks on the statement, and my mouth falls open, but I quickly close it. “I’ve loved her before I knew what love was.”
I follow her gaze. She’s not watching the Talbott wives, she’s watching one in particular. Squinting my eyes, I realize it’s a grown-up Kelsey Garrett, Dawn’s little sister.
I do my best to conceal my shock because her telling me this is paramount. Somehow, it relieves some of my guilt about Zebadiah.
“Mia…”
She turns to look at me, her face twisted in disgust. “I know it’s repulsive, and you have every right to inform the Prophet of my perversions.” I want to tell her I understand. I know better than anyone that love isn’t always a choice, but doing so would expose my true feelings toward her husband. “I don’t know why the Devil tainted me with this sickness. I don’t want to feel this way. Zaaron blessed me with the holiest husband on the compound, yet my desire for her only festers. Please understand, it was never intentional. It just happened.” My ears burn with muted anger because she’s right. She has everything I’ve ever wanted and she takes it for granted. When I open my mouth to respond, every word that rises up feels selfish. We stand in silence, watching the sheep when she suddenly says, “Do you remember Serah Johnson? Brother Benji’s younger sister?”